Though I am, on the whole, a fairly easy-going person, on occasion an event will occur that leaves my blood boiling. For about an hour I will fume quietly, my insides churning, head throbbing and stomach twisting into knots that’d baffle even the best boy scout and I’ll assume the expression of a “black cloud,” as my mother always used to say. All I can think about when these events occur is just how angry and upset I feel, and how, no matter how hard I try, I simply can’t shake it. I know it’s ridiculous, completely melodramatic and, well, childish, but dammit, that’s the way I feel and I’m entitled to it.

What can one do in such situations? Very little, usually, as when I’m in such a state I don’t want a hug, I don’t want to see or talk to anybody, all I want is to be left alone and to bake the stress away. The methodical measuring of ingredients, of following a recipe to the ‘T’ and (more importantly) the time spent away from the thing that has angered me, helps me to ease it all away. Baking is my meditation.

This week I officially finished all of my work at University (finally) and have spent the past couple of days drinking, drinking, and, er, drinking. I did make a lovely roast pork with beautiful potatoes dauphinoise last night, but um, I was drunk. So I didn’t take photos. Sorry.

HOWEVER. I do have something beautiful for you! The past few days have been super hot. I’m talking 30 degrees celsius hot. It’s been lovely. And today is my last day in the house I’ve lived in all year with my lovely housemates Jess and Nat, so I thought we should have a cream tea party to celebrate.

Cream teas are quintessentially British. Along with strawberries. And usually you have them when you’re sitting outside in a sunny spot which will quickly turn into a thunderstorm as soon as you take your first bite of the glorious scone, clotted cream and jam.